


We never talk anymore

by LachesisMeg



Series: Justice Burns [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Actually we don't see any violence, But horrible stuff happens immediately before the fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Lack of Communication, Major Character Injury, Oh foggy why am i doing this to you?, So let's just leave that archive warning as is, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LachesisMeg/pseuds/LachesisMeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Foggy loses his tongue and ability to speak to a vicious attack Nelson and Murdock search for a new normal.</p><p>Prompted by http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/725.html?thread=905941#cmt905941</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Foggy woke up screaming, but no sound came out.

“Foggy. Don’t try to talk. There’s a lot of... damage. Just squeeze my hand, ok?”  
Foggy squeezed Matt’s hand, and Matt let out the breath he was holding.

“That’s great. How about one squeeze for yes, two for no?”  
Another squeeze.

“Do you want me to go get your mom? She’s in the waiting room outside.”  
Two squeezes.  
“Ok. I’ll stay for a while.”

“Are you in pain?”  
One squeeze.  
“There’s call button by your other hand. You can call the nurse and they’ll come check on your meds, ok?”  
One squeeze. Foggy reached around until he found the call button.

* * *

 

“It looks like his lungs weren’t damaged. His mouth and throat were severely burnt and we had to remove what was left of his tongue, so he may not be able to swallow.”

Foggy’s mom had left the room halfway through the doctor’s explanations, but Matt stayed in the corner, looking away from everyone but still asking questions in an even tone.

“When will he be able to breathe on his own?”

“His trachea was also burnt by the acid, so we’re waiting to let it heal. It’s likely that he will continue to need the vent at night for some time to avoid aspirating anything in his sleep.”

“How much more surgery will he need?”

“If everything keeps healing nicely then there will just be some plastic surgery for his lips. If there’s not too much damage to the underlying muscles he might be able to speak understandably after speech therapy. We will just have to wait and see.”

Matt clenched his hands around his cane. It wasn’t until he went home hours later that he started breaking things and sobbing.


	2. This is really happening

Matt woke up screaming.

This was his fault, and Foggy wouldn’t tell him anything to help catch the people who did it.

However he split his time it wouldn’t be good enough.  How were he and Karen going to keep the law office open?  How could he be there for Foggy when he was to blame?  How could he even think about not being there for Foggy?

 

* * *

 

When the bandages came off for the first time Matt and Karen were there.   Matt focused on Karen, trying to hear anything in her breathing or heartbeat to tell him how bad it was.   Aside from one flutter she was steady as a clock.

Matt reached his hand toward Foggy's face and asked “May I?”

Foggy grabbed his wrist and pushed it away.  Gave it two strong squeezes while he did.  Matt could smell the tears in his eyes.

When Matt found Karen sobbing in the hallway later she wouldn't tell him anything.  "He will be ok, Matt.  He has to be ok." 

  

* * *

Marci walked in with her usual self-assured stride.  "Foggy Bear, I know you wanted to avoid calling me back, but this is a little extreme."

Foggy scrawled something on the pad of paper next to his bed.  Marci read it aloud for Matt's benefit.  "'Ha Ha.' Truly eloquent, Foggy."

She dropped a wrapped package on his lap.  "This might help your sense of humor."   Foggy unwrapped it and stared at it without noticeable emotion.   Marci picked it up, tapped at it, and handed it back to him,  "Try it out."

Foggy poked at it for a moment and then it spoke.  {{The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.}}

Matt sat bolt upright in his chair.  It was, almost, Foggy's voice. "How did you do that?"

Marci made some gesture.  {{She shrugged,}} said Foggy's recorded voice and Matt blinked back tears.

She answered nonchalantly, "It's not that hard to get moot court practice tapes.  Turns out with enough recordings some software company can make a synthesized voice for a text to speech app.

"So, now we can dish, Foggy.  Let's you and I chat and send Matt out for coffee.  I want a triple shot caramel latte, Matty. Take your time."

 

When Matt strolled back in with the coffees he was starting to feel grateful for the break. Marci called out from the seating area down the hall,  "Over here, Murdock.  The police are getting his full statement now that he's less loopy from pain meds."

He put their drinks down and squeezed the handle of his cane.  "Did you plan this?  Sending me away when he needed me?"

"He didn't want you there, Matt.  He doesn't want you to know the details.  He needs you to be his friend, not his lawyer.

"There's a chair on my right.  Sit.  Drink your coffee."

 

Matt sat and listened to Foggy's room, letting his coffee get cold.  He could make out Foggy scribbling notes, and a sketch artist, and the detectives murmuring encouragement to continue.  Nothing from speech to text.  No specifics Matt could overhear.  Nothing Daredevil could _use_. 

 

He turned his attention back to Marci.  "Thank you for the tablet.  It... means a lot for him to have this."

  

* * *

Matt paced up and down the ward to give Foggy the semblance of privacy.

A nurse walked by and said with a laughing voice, "Ok, mister, you're officially spending too much time in these hallways,"  Matt paused his pacing and raised his eyebrows in a question.  "You've got them memorized -- you're barely using your cane."

Matt half-smiled, "Guilty as charged. Sara isn't it?"

"Good memory, Mr. Murdock!"

"Like you said, I've been spending too much time in these hallways.  Please, call me Matt."

The banter didn't help.  He could still hear the conversation from Foggy's room.

 

{{I can't do this.  I can't do my job.  I can't talk to my friend.  For gods sake. I can't even swallow.}}

 “It’s not so bad, Foggy.  You’re alive.  You're breathing on your own.  You’re going to be ok.  If you can’t talk again it’s not that important.”  Mrs. Nelson, the only person Foggy ever thought of as his mother, was doing a crappy job of a pep talk. 

{{My best friend is blind.  Speaking again is fucking important.}}    Foggy picked up the tablet as if to throw it across the room, put it back down, and threw the TV remote instead.   
  


Mrs. Nelson walked out past Matt without saying anything.  He walked into Foggy's room and tried to lighten the mood, "A nurse caught me walking up and down the halls mostly without my cane.  She thinks I'm spending too much time here."

{{It was Sara wasn't it?   You and your hotties.}}

Matt grinned, "Can't say I noticed she was hot, Foggy."

Foggy threw something at him.

"Your mom drinks her coffee with soy milk in it?  Ew, Foggy."

{{Shit, I thought that was empty.}}

Matt grinned and held out the cup for Foggy to see, "It is, I can just smell what was in it."

 

* * *

"Do you want to talk?  About all this?"

{{Yes Matt. I want to talk very much.  But that's not in the cards right now. So just}}

Matt waited, listening to his own breath, and Foggy's heartbeat, and the sound of Foggy's breathing through the hole in his throat.  After a few more minutes Foggy continued, {{I want to tell you to go away. But I'm afraid of what you'll do if you go home.  Just. Just be here.  Don't try to fix anything.}} 

Matt ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know if I can do that, Foggy.  I don't want to promise if I can't."

A knock on the door, and the pulmonologist walked in and introduced herself.  Matt perked up and commented, "Oh, I'm glad you came in.  It sounds to me like Foggy is working on pneumonia.” 

"I don't hear anything from here, but let's see what auscultation tells us," she leaned over and examined Foggy.

"You're right, Mr. Murdock, those are definitely rattles.  I'm impressed."

{{He can’t see worth shit but his hearing is spectacular,}} Foggy said.  Matt laughed for the first time in days.

Foggy reached out and held onto Matt's hand.

 


	3. Home from the hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bah, I keep not finishing this because I'm not sure it does what it needs to do to set up the next chapters, but this is getting ridiculous. So here it is, and if it doesn't work when I get more chapters written I will just rewrite it then.

Foggy woke up screaming, but no sound came out.   His breathing was forced.   Shit. Why couldn't he breathe normally?  Why wasn't anyone helping him?  He opened his eyes.  He was in his own room, not the hospital. He blinked a few times, clearing the sleep from his brain, and he remembered what was going on.  He was connected to the overnight ventilator.  He reached over, turned it off, disconnected the tube and took a few deep breaths all of his own.  Much better.  He suctioned out the trach, and then got up and started getting ready.

First step was the bathroom, then cleaning out all his tubes and packing his daily bag with all the backups he might need. Mother hen Matthew had been known to do spot inspections of his kit bag to make sure Foggy hadn't left any supplies at home.

He ran his fingers through his hair and thought about showering, but decided he could go another day.  It took forever now to get everything ready for a shower and then cleaned up afterwards, so he stuck with a thorough washing of pits and bits until his hair really really needed it.

Once he had brushed his teeth and rinsed out his mouth (which was now a complicated procedure-- who knew how much you used your tongue to spit things out?) he deflated the balloon on his trach, took a deep breath, and got a whiff of mint toothpaste.  Foggy was glad he had already mostly switched to unscented toiletries because of Matt; he was surprised at how strong smells were these days.

Suit on, just in case they got to see any clients today, laptop and tablet packed, medical bag packed, yup, time to go to work.

 

* * *

Email sorted, time for late breakfast.   Foggy pulled out a can of meal replacement drink and popped it open.  

Matt tipped his head and furrowed his brow at the smell, “How can you stand those strawberry ones?”

Foggy put down the can and typed,  {{Now that I can smell again it turns out strawberry is the best thing ever, buddy.  Also they are a really amazing shade of pink,}} then went back to filling the food bag and connecting it to his g-tube.

Matt laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, "I guess it's okay as long as you don't make me try them too.

"And rinse the can when you're done, I don't need that smell in the trash can all day."  He was still smiling as he walked back to his desk.  Foggy grinned too, as he finished setting up his breakfast.  Matt had been treating **him** like he was made of spun glass. He had missed bickering with Matt.

 

* * *

 

Ugh, Foggy groaned to himself.  Pages and pages of depositions to read through, and he still hadn't done his speech exercises today.  Why had he decide it was a good idea to be an adult? Maybe he could get Karen to distract him for a bit.  Foggy comically slumped over his desk.

As he had hoped, this got Karen's attention, and she came in and rubbed his shoulders.  "Big bad paperwork getting you down?"

He looked up enough to type in, {{Not anymore.  Imagine I am moaning with contentment.}}  She grinned.   Foggy let her fingers work magic on his shoulders while she talked to him about the latest spat between the tenants of the neighboring offices.  After the third explanation of stolen deliveries and retaliatory garbage bags , he decided he had procrastinated long enough.  He sat up and gave Karen a big smile and a double thumbs up.    He loved the way Karen responded to his smiles like they were they same as they had always been.

{{When will Matt get back from his thing?}}

"He said not until after lunch.  Do you need something?"

Time to put on his big boy pants.  {{Could you put on some headphones and listen to loud music for a while?}}

"Oh, do you need to..." Karen gestures at her mouth.

{{Yeah.  I don't want anyone to...}}

Karen interrupted and exuded nonchalance. "No problem, I get it.  I will have some serious boogie time while I file.  Throw something at me if you need me, ok?"

{{Thanks Karen.}}

 

 

"aaahhh.  eeee.  eh.  uuh. ooh.  ah ee eh uh ooh.  mmmaaaaahh.  mmmmaaahh."  

Foggy ran through his vocal exercises for a few more minutes, but his heart wasn't in it. He collapsed into tears.  He hated listening to the way he sounded.  No one would ever be able to understand him. This was hopeless.  They had taken everything that made him him, and he had no way to get it back.

Karen kept filing with her back to him, but he could tell from the lackluster way she was dancing that she could hear his breakdown.   She pretended to ignore him until she couldn't anymore, and then walked in to his office.   She pulled up a chair next to him and hugged him tight across the back while he shuddered with sobs.

"Does it hurt?  When you try to talk?"  He nodded through his tears.

"But that's not the reason you're crying, is it?"   Foggy shook his head.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Foggy turned his head away and blubbered.

"Oh, Foggy." Karen rested her head next to his and just held on.

 

* * *

 

Foggy handed Brett a paper bag labelled “For Bess.”

“You can stop giving her these, Foggy.”

 Foggy held up his hands and gave Brett his best “I’m not going to be the one to tell your mom what to do, buddy,” face.

 "No, really.  She’s cut way back.  She says you can’t come by if she’s been smoking in the apartment.”

 Foggy shrugged and raised an eyebrow, then waved at his throat apologetically.

 “Well, for some reason she misses you, so get yourself over there more often.”

 Foggy half bowed and gestured at his body as if to say “well, I am all that.”  Brett patted him on the back.  “Yeah, man, you keep thinking that.  See you around.”

 

* * *

As if dealing with insurance companies wasn't hard enough, now he couldn't even talk on the phone.  Matt had offered to come over on Saturday morning to call about the latest round of incorrect bills and double charges.   It was a little awkward, typing things out for Matt to listen to, but this was just all too much to share with Karen.  Also, Matt was a lawyer.  That never hurt when talking to insurance companies.

While sitting on hold, Matt tried to get Foggy to talk.  "How are you doing, Foggy?  How are you handling things?"

{{You're not my therapist Matt}}

"But you do tell things to her?  You're not keeping this all to yourself?  Is it helping?"  
  
Foggy snorted.  This was not a conversation he wanted to be having with Matt.  If he lied and said he was fine, Matt would push.  If he tried to tell Matt how he really felt Matt would go ballistic and try to kill someone.  Or maybe just go out and get himself killed with guilt.  This was not a conversation Foggy could win.   {{Yes I tell her things.  How much do you think it is helping?}}

Finally Matt got through, to a slightly accented man who identified himself as Tom.

"Thank you, Tom.  My name is Matthew Murdock, and I am calling on behalf of Franklin Nelson.  I've placed you on speakerphone and he is here with me."  Matt rattled off a stream of identification numbers, vital statistics, record numbers and bill details.  Shit, Matt had an incredible memory for details.  Matt sat there with one headphone in, one hand on his braille display, and he looked like he was all business.   Foggy didn't have to hear his heartbeat to know that was a lie.

"I need to speak directly to the account holder to verify your permission, sir."  
Foggy grabbed the tablet. {{This is Franklin Nelson.  I authorize Matthew Murdock to discuss my account. I am using an assistive device to speak to you.}}  
"That is some sort of recording.  I must have authorization directly from the account holder."  
"This is ridiculous.  Mr. Nelson can't speak right now.  Can't you tell that from your records?"

"Sir, if the account holder cannot give verbal authorization, please submit a health care proxy or power of attorney.  You can find the information on our website.   If the account holder can verbally authorize you to speak on his behalf, then we can discuss the case with you."

Matt started making fists and looking like he was going to break the phone.  Fuck.  Now was not the time for the famous Murdock temper, Matt.

Foggy picked up the phone and held it up to his face.   "iiiiih iiiiih aaa uuh-uuh.  uuuuh ooooh."  He handed the phone back to Matt and stomped out of the room, desperate to be anywhere else.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

Matt took off his glasses, rubbed his face, put on his best lawyer voice, and tried again, "Tom, that was Mr. Nelson.   As you can see from the records that you have in front of you, we're calling to discuss the bills for his facial reconstruction and authorization for his speech therapy.  His statement there was clearly verbal agreement to let  me speak on his behalf, don't you agree?  Can we discuss the issues I called about, or do we need to escalate to your supervisor?  I would hate to get you or your company in trouble for ADA violations."

 

 

"I thought that was a pretty good 'Fuck you', Foggy."  Phone call finished, Matt leaned in the bedroom doorway.

Foggy, face down in on his bed, waved Matt away.  Sure, it was pointless.  Matt could hear him crying.  Matt could probably smell his despair and frustration.  But Foggy was damned if he was going to show Matt how upset he was.

"I can tell you're waving Foggy, but I don't know if it's a come in and talk to me or a go away."  

Seriously, Matt?  This is the time you can't tell what I'm thinking?  Foggy grunted and stuck up his middle finger with gusto.  Matt backed out of the doorway, "Well, that's clear.  We got about half of what we were asking for, by the way.  I'll go type up the rest of the notes from the phone call."

Foggy buried his head in his pillows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think he was saying "This is Foggy Nelson, fuck you."
> 
> Yes, this is how messed up healthcare insurance is in the US.
> 
> (In one draft of this I had the word "shoulders" at least six times. I think I might need a backrub.)  
>  
> 
> Comments of all kinds are great!


	4. This is life now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy settles into his new work life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience waiting for me to update. Turns out I can write whump just fine, but reconciliation is hard.
> 
> The Acid Survivors Trust -- http://www.acidviolence.org/ -- is a real organization, and sadly necessary.

 Foggy woke up crying, but no sound came out.

The plastic surgery on his face had worked, up to a point. He could smile and grimace. Heck, people didn’t even stare at him much unless they saw his tracheotomy tube.

But even on good days, when his throat was healed enough that he could vocalize, his lips just weren’t pliable or quick enough to form anything like words. The speech therapist finally convinced him that their sessions weren’t making any difference.

Now they did drink free at Josie’s. Well, Foggy did. Josie didn’t charge him for the drinks he held onto all night and smelled from time to time. Probably because she drank them when he was done. From time to time he thought about putting one into his feeding tube, but he was afraid if he got drunk enough to start crying he wouldn’t be able to stop.

 

* * *

 

Foggy's therapist was the one who suggested he start learning ASL.   It turned out she was Deaf, although it wasn't much of an issue given Foggy's current preference for written communication, even during their sessions.    

Foggy convinced Karen to come to classes with him to learn sign language. She loved ASL, and she kept taking classes.  Foggy secretly worried that she would run off and become an interpreter.   Foggy learned a lot of vocabulary, but the grammar of ASL drove him up the wall, so he used a lot of signed English.

 

Matt learned {sorry} and {thank you} but Karen swore his fingerspelling was worse than his handwriting, so he quit trying.

 

Word got around that Nelson and Murdock could help clients in English, Spanish, or ASL and they found an under-served population of Deaf people in NY who needed lawyers.

 

* * *

{Karen, why is there a quart of ,.,.,., on my desk?}

"I assume you mean strawberries?" she replied, making the correct sign as she did.  
"Matt, he wants to know about the strawberries."

Matt stuck his head out of his office. “They’re for the juicer I ordered. I thought we could all start having smoothies for lunch since we’re so busy these days. I stopped by the fruit market and those smelled the best.”

Foggy pulled out the tablet. {{Thanks Matt. That sounds like a really good idea. As long as you don't put any kale into mine.}}

Foggy set up the Braille typewriter Matt hadn’t used since undergrad. “Why do we need that?” asked Karen. {Sometimes a guy wants to write his buddy secret notes, Karen. Do you really want to translate my questions about his love life? Because I certainly don’t want to commit them to email.}

 

* * *

Foggy went into the bathroom to get ready before their next client showed up. He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. His lips were thin and tight, but they closed over his teeth. From his mouth to his cheekbones his skin was rough and discolored with scarring. He could open and close his jaw, but he couldn't move it side to side.

The more Foggy learned about acid attacks the more he counted his blessings that his nose, eyes, and ears had been unaffected. One chemically blinded partner at this law firm was more than enough, thank you. At this point he was sending 10% of every take home paycheck to the Acid Survivors Trust, and as soon as he was done paying off his medical bills he was going to double it. 

After some experimentation he and Karen had determined that a small amount of foundation around his chin and cheeks and a pale lipstick over his lips made his face less disconcerting to people meeting him, particularly those clients who were used to lip reading and watching for facial cues. He took out his makeup case and put on his work face.

When he went back to the conference room Matt was just beginning the explanations.

"I understand that it may seem awkward to for a Deaf person to have a blind lawyer, Ms. Groenig. But our assistant Karen Page and my partner Franklin Nelson are able to sign with you. Karen will translate your signs for me and my speech for you. If at any point you think something has been missed we can use paper or computer text."

{I guess that seems reasonable.}

"Ah, here is Mr. Nelson. Foggy, I was just explaining how Karen will translate for us."

{Thank you, Matt. Ms. Groenig, it's my pleasure to meet you.}

**Author's Note:**

> {{Text like this indicates text to voice from a computer}}
> 
> {Text like this indicates ASL or signed English}
> 
> T-H-I-S means writing onto Matt's skin


End file.
